PitManDu
by cpneb
Summary: To start my Year 4, I’ve prepared a little something for James, in the midst of recovery...in the words of Steve Barkin: "Good times, good times..."


**PitManDu**

Disclaimer/Author's Notes: Kim Possible and all the characters of the show used herein are owned by the Disney Company. All other characters can be blamed on the author (he, however, is not responsible for all of their actions at all times, being barely responsible for himself most of the time….). This is a strictly not-for-profit, just-for-fun work.

To start my own "Season 4", I've prepared a little something for James to remember in the midst of recovery…good times, good times.

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**PitManDu**

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"Dad, can I ask you a question?"

Tim had come into my study to ask me a question. I'd glanced up when he came in before I returned to my work. He had a smile on his face: he'd just finished talking to Hope and telling her that he was driving to Sherman, Texas, to visit her on her Fall Break.

I smiled: I was so happy for Tim. Then again, I was happy for both my boys, finding love in the midst of the horror of invasion and the threat of…well, I tried not to think about it very often. The new study in the rebuilt house helped me heal. There were times, I had witnessed, that Kimmie would sniffle a bit for some item she couldn't find that she suddenly realized was gone forever.

Tim's grin hid something else. What that was, I was not certain.

"Of course, son: what is it?"

"Did you ever go to a drive-in movie when you were younger?"

I looked up from my papers on the desk and stared at Tim. He honestly was asking me this question, and he looked worried. Actually, he looked a bit scared.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, Hope said that she wanted me to take her to the drive-in south of Sherman while I was there," he replied.

Replying to this question would not bode well for me.

"Yeah, Mr. Dr. P," Ron had heard the question as he walked by from the kitchen and came into the room, noshing on a Ron-sized sandwich. He had a grin on his face. "Who was the lucky babe in High School to get the James T. Possible moves? Was it Carol?"

Ron was evil.

"Ron!" I glared at him. He knew full well who Carol was, and that I didn't want to discuss her in front of Tim.

"Who's Carol?" now, Tim was interested.

And now, I was in serious trouble: it was time for diversion, Grande-sized.

"Actually, Tim, I did have a chance to visit a drive-in or two when I was younger, both before and after I met your mother," I smiled, stood, and walked to the door. I closed and locked it.

Ron laughed. "Secrets, Mr. Dr. P?"

"Some things are best not broadcast," I replied, returning to my desk and motioning for both Ron and Tim to sit.

I leaned back and put my hands behind my head, remembering things, events, and some people that I hadn't thought about in a long time.

"My first memory of a drive-in was Dad and Mom taking Slim and I to see 'The Birds' by Alfred Hitchcock in the fall migratory season. It seemed that, every time that there was a scene of massing birds on the screen, there was a massive flock that either flew over the lot or landed on top of the concession stand, cackling. That was a problem for Slim," I grinned, remembering his look, "because he had had a big soda with dinner at the local burger and ice cream stand, another during the cartoon before the movie, and a third during the first reel of the film. And, the restrooms were in the concession area…" I trailed, and Ron caught it and laughed.

"What's a reel?" Tim asked.

"Long story," I replied, wondering what all was being lost in this digital generation. "I'll tell you later.

"Anyway, Dad lent me his Rambler station wagon just after I turned 16, to take a young lady to the drive-in movies. It was a G-rated movie, and Dad was certain that we wouldn't get any ideas there."

"What's a Rambler?" Ron asked.

"Think pre-Sloth, Ron: made much better, just with no style until the Javelin came out," I replied.

Blank faces stared at me.

'Sometimes, they just make me feel ancient', I thought as I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering my 'first' trip…

--

James was driving to the drive-in, but he continued to sneak looks at Marcia. Why she had called him and asked him to the movies, he had no idea. 'She certainly had a better selection of guys to choose from,' he thought. He hoped that he wasn't a 'pity date' that she would tell everyone all over the school: he didn't think he could handle citizenship in that 'embarrassment nation.'

She was pretty to him: her long full head of brown hair cascaded down her shoulders and down almost to her waist. Her glasses, he'd always thought, were way past sexy, but he would never tell her that. She wasn't the most beautiful girl in the school; he had heard other guys laughing about her, behind her back, and her 'lack of assets,' as one of them called her figure. He thought that she was lovely, and he had thought about asking her out more than once. He never had, though: he was certain that she'd never be seen with him, the resident school 'brainiac and geek de jeur', as painted one night on that wall down the street from the school.

He wished that his dad had a fancier car: a Rambler station wagon was not a 'make-out machine', but it would at least get him to the drive-in. After he got there, he had decided that he would 'play it by ear.' He was glad of one thing: at least the heater worked. The early fall cold snap had dropped the temperature down into the 40s, and Marcia had on a sweater, blue jeans, and her currently-fashionable boots. He liked the jeans, and he definitely liked the sweater…and the treasures that it concealed.

"Do you really want to watch that movie you told me about?" Marcia asked, and he turned as he pulled up at the stop light a few blocks before the turn-off to the drive-in.

"Not really; why?" he asked.

"Well," she grinned, "on the other screen is 'Night of the Living Dead,'" she told him.

He wanted to see that movie in the worst way: most of his friends had already seen it.

"You wanna see it?" he asked hopefully, and she nodded.

He smiled as the light turned green. The short few minutes to the drive-in did not take the smile off his face, and he paid for the car admittance and headed for the screen for the movie.

"I brought some sandwiches in case we get hungry, and I have some cash in case you want some popcorn and soda," James said as he pulled into a spot far enough back from the screen to be alone.

"Popcorn and a Coke sounds swell," she replied, and James almost ran out of the car and to the concession stand to get her treats.

He came back, carrying the massive bucket of buttered popcorn and the drink caddy, and he stopped as he looked into the passenger-side window at his date: she was a vision, and she was here with him. He grinned and tapped the window. She looked up, surprised, and cranked the window down. He handed her the drink caddy and the popcorn, and he went around to the driver's door.

When he got in, he realized that she had moved over a bit and placed the popcorn on the drink and food caddy that straddled the central hump the covered the transmission shaft to the rear wheels. "I hope you don't mind," she said, turning her head to face him after he hung the speaker on the window, "but I wanted to hear better, so I moved over. That would make it easier for us to share the popcorn, too."

"I don't mind at all," he replied, reaching for his drink and dropping the straw into the open top and taking a deep drink.

The movie started, and they munched popcorn and laughed at some of the opening scenes. Marcia made Tim laugh when she suggested that Romero should have had the zombies break out into dance. "That would be funny," she giggled, and James liked it when she giggled: she moved when she giggled.

After the first reel change, Marcia looked over at him. "James, I'm getting a chill. Can I move a little closer to you?" James was convinced that he heard angels singing and nodded. She put her drink back in the caddy and scooted over on the bench seat so that she was almost touching James. He was glad that it was dark: he was certain that he was beet-red by the time she stopped moving.

After about 10 minutes, James felt her head on his shoulder. He glanced over at her face, and he saw that her eyes were closed and she was smiling. 'It's now or never,' he thought, and he gently moved his right hand from his lap up in the air and dropped it on the back of the car seat. He slowly moved his hand down towards her shoulder. He felt her move, and he stopped.

He had no worries, though: she brought her hand up to touch his and place it on her shoulder. She then turned her face to him and smiled. James decided that he had a green light, so he leaned his face over slowly toward hers. He watched her smile a bit more, and she closed her eyes as he approached her…

…and their lips touched for their first kiss. He tasted her lipstick: not heavy, but tasteful and tasty. Her lips also tasted of popcorn butter and salt and, on a whim, he licked her lips, making her smile even more.

"That was wonderful," she said when their lips separated. "You must be an expert kisser."

"Not really," he admitted.

"Well, I think you are," she smiled and she leaned even more into his side. He squeezed her shoulder, and he felt her shudder and get warmer through her sweater.

He liked how she felt…

--

"A 'Javelin'?" Tim asked.

"It was a car, Tim." I sighed, once again.

"Well?" Ron pushed, shoving the last of the sandwich into his mouth. How he did that, I'll never know. "Did you ever play 'baseball' with Carol in a drive-in?" he grinned, and I had a strong desire to fuel a spacecraft.

I couldn't hold back my grin…

--

James was grinning, big time, as he stood on the sidewalk. Carol was back in town, right before he was leaving for college, and she was taking him to a drive-in movie. He had 'let it slip' that she was coming, and his stock among the guys had gone through the roof.

'It helps that she's a swimsuit model for several brands,' he grinned, remembering the last picture she'd sent him. Just thinking about it made him flush.

BEEP-BEEP!

He looked up and smiled. 'Only Carol,' he thought as the convertible pulled over to the curb and slammed to a stop. Carol got out and ran to James, throwing her arms out.

James, out of instinct, held his arms out, and Carol slammed into them and hugged him.

'Dang, she feels good…and she smells so wonderful, too,' James thought as she held him tight.

"Miss me?" she whispered into my neck as she nuzzled it, and I smiled.

"Every nano-second that you've been away," he replied. "Would you like to know how many of them that's been?"

"Silly, and I love you, too," she kissed his lips and pulled him toward the car. James was still smiling like a man in full-bore love when she opened the passenger door and him toward the seat.

James managed to get into the car and put on his seat belt before Carol, having gotten back in the driver's seat and strapped in, dropped the car into drive and floored it, burning rubber as she pealed away from the curb.

"In a hurry?" he asked over the wind.

She didn't respond verbally, but she turned and smiled at him as she drove.

In less than 15 minutes, they were pulling into a spot at the back of the drive-in. Carol stopped the car, turned off the engine, and got out, heading for the trunk. She came back with a picnic basket and a grin on her face.

"I made us dinner," she said as she handed him the basket before she got back in the car.

"Ok, Carol, what's wrong?" James asked, opening the basket.

"Can we eat first," she asked, and he nodded. "I made your favorites," she smiled as she opened the basket lid, and James' smile grew.

He could not believe that anyone with her figure could, literally, eat like a pig and never show it. She ate three big pieces of the fried chicken, over half of the fries, most of her special cucumber-and-onion vinegar salad, and downed two 10.5-oz bottles of soda. He enjoyed feeding her fries: only she could make eating a fry into an X-rated experience with a G-rated look on her face.

After the only thing remaining in the basket were empty bottles, dirty dishes, and containers that once held food, James placed the basket in the back seat, took the napkin from her lap, dabbed at her lips, and then kissed the napkin before folding it gently and placing it in his pocked. She watched all of this with a smile, but she didn't know what he was doing.

"I need something to remember you by, Carol, besides the pictures that make every man on the planet drool," James grinned, and her smile dazzled him.

"You are _such_ a charmer," she said, pulling him over next to her, "but, then, you've always been that way with me," and James was surprised to see tears coming down her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Just hold me," she said, trying not to burst into full-bore sobs. His arms around her, unfortunately, broke the dam, and she sobbed onto his shoulder as he held the trembling model.

Luckily for them, it was a 1960s Elvis double-feature, so the sound covered her sobs, and hardly anyone was at the drive-in on a Thursday night, anyway.

They talked though the movie: remembering all their times together, old friends, and a couple of classmates that had died from this disease that no one seemed to understand but took their friends all too early. James tried to ask her about her family, but she kept changing the topic. Carol wanted to know all about his college plans, and James told her about his schedule at MIST that was starting in a few weeks. Occasionally, she would pull him even closer and nuzzle his neck, almost as if she were trying to crawl inside him, it seemed to James. He didn't mind, though: as much of a friend that she had been for all these years, he rarely begrudged her anything. He did try to remind her that, even though she was as famous as she was going to be, she needed to remember where she had come from and to have fun on occasions. "If you can't have fun, Carol, what good is life," he had asked her once, and he was shocked to later see his question end up on a T-shirt that she was now modeling and selling. He laughed until the checks started to come in, much to his and his parents' surprise. The first check alone covered all of his expenses for his entire first semester of college.

When they finally arrived back in front of James' house, Carol turned to him after she turned off the engine.

"James, do you love me?"

"That's the stupidest question I've ever heard," he immediately shot back. "Besides, who else would put up with you, Carol?" he grinned, and she smiled.

"All of the other guys I'm around want to rip my clothes off," she commented.

"I would never rip your clothes off, Carol: I've wanted to undress you ever since my mind could fathom the concept, but I'd never rip your clothes off."

"James, you are way too good for me," she laughed and leaned over, reaching up and pulling his face to her and kissing him. She tasted like Carol: tangy, sharp, vibrant, and-

James started to laugh, and Carol pulled back and gave him a dirty look.

"I'm sorry, but you taste like chicken," he laughed.

She stared at him for a moment, blinked twice, and then started to smile, chuckle, and then she let out a laugh that shook the car.

"I guess it's true, then: everything does taste like chicken," she finally said.

"Oh, I don't know about that," James grinned wickedly. "I've only tastes your lips. I've not tasted other parts of you," he continued, and she punched him. "I am certain that someone would be finger-"

"Don't you _even_ go there," Carol's voice channeled her father, and he stopped in mid-sentence.

"Daddy's missing," she said, almost as if she were giving a weather report, and James' eyes shot wide open. "He was supposed to come back 10 weeks ago from a trip, and Mom can't get anything out of his contacts at State. She's scared," she took his hand, "and so am I. If he doesn't come back," she started, and she began to shake as a sob began to form deep inside of her soul.

James quickly pulled her to him tightly and whispered into her ear, "He'll be back, Carol, I know it. Besides, someone has to be around to threaten to strap me to the next Titan booster going up," he added, and he was rewarded with a giggle and a kiss on his neck.

Part of him knew he would always care about her, but a tiny part of him, in the back of his mind, was telling him that this was quite likely the last time he would ever see her in person again. He had no idea why he felt that, and that thought really ground his beans. Unfortunately, he couldn't shake the feeling, so he sat in the car, holding her and whispering words of encouragement until she fell asleep.

Slim came out the front door after the car had been parked there for so long. He saw his brother holding her, and James motioned him over. He held his finger up to his lips, indicating silence, and motioned for Slim to help him lift carol from the car. He then got out himself, took her in his arms, and carried her into their house, placing her gently on the couch before planting himself in his Dad's BarcaLounger and watching her sleep before he, too, succumbed to the siren call of slumber….

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A knock on my study door broke my concentration, and Ron stood and went to the door. Unlocking it and opening it, he revealed the new arrivals. My two favorite women in the world came in, and both were grinning.

"So," Anne asked with a twinkle in her eye, "What's happening in here?"

"I was just getting ready to tell Ron and Tim some drive-in stories," I replied with a smile, and Anne turned a beet-red, reached for Tim, and pulled him to his feet.

"You are not old enough to hear that story," Anne announced.

"What about me?" Kim grinned, and one glaring look from Anne answered her. "Never mind: forget I asked," she added hastily. "Come on, Ron: let's go upstairs," and she pulled Ron out of the study.

Tim decided to beat a hasty retreat while his mother was distracted, leaving Anne alone in the study with me. She glared at me for a moment, then turned and closed the study door and locked it.

She came over to me and looked down at me with that glare before replacing it with a smile. "You really weren't going to tell them any stories, were you," she asked.

"Hey, I may be a rocket scientist, but even I'm smart enough to not tell them everything," I replied, pulling Anne down into my lap. She laughed and then she got quiet when I kissed her, and I started to laugh.

"What?" she asked.

"What did you have for lunch, dear?"

"Chicken salad: why?"

"Oh, no reason."

"You didn't tell either of them about our drive-in times, did you?" Anne looked at me with a look that told me I'd better have the right answer.

"Are you kidding?" I laughed. "I wasn't going to be the one to tell them about the 'Passion Pit' or the nickname you gave me."

"Yeah, 'PitManDu'," she giggled.

"Besides," I continued, ignoring her, "if I did, do you think that either of them would still be able to talk: They'd both be in shock. Besides, I don't want Kimmie-cub to go after the Sloth's front and rear seats with a blowtorch or turn them over to Shego."

"Good answer," she smiled and kissed my nose, then wrapped her arms around me.

"How are we all doing?" I asked, nodding down at her stomach.

She grinned. "One was playing soccer earlier, and the other was wearing cleats."

"Ouch: sounds like Kimmie-cub coaching the boys' team," I grinned, and she laughed.

"I'm so happy to be back in our house," she said. "Living with the Stoppable's was wonderful, but we couldn't do this," she stood and started to unbutton her persimmon blouse.

"I'm so glad I soundproofed the inside walls," I reminded myself as her blouse flew over her right shoulder and floated to a landing in front of the door….

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Story now complete

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A/N:

This was a result of (literally) a week where over 12 bunnies showed themselves over 5 nights as I returned home from work. I wrote this in less than 48 hours, including over 9 hours of sleep and a lot of distraction time.

If you want to learn more about Carol, read chapter 7 of _**BE,S I Blue Eyes, Shining: Intermezzi. **_There, Ron asks James who Carol is, and he gets the story. Here, he brings up her name, already knowing who she; hence, James' urge to consider firing him into space one more time.

Enjoy!

…cpneb

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